Part 3

I gave the strain to wild despair, When pleasure’s sweetest scenes had faded, When youth’s gay dreams, so bright and fair, Misfortune’s murky cloud had shaded.

II

But still, tho’ sorrow rul’d the song, And grief, that gay delights would perish, Would Hope a softer note prolong, And bid my breast her influence cherish.

III

She bade me turn to each delight That blest with smiles life’s radiant morning, And still her hand, with visions bright Was every future hour adorning.

IV

I counted every transient joy, That deck’d the gay and blissful season When I, “a visionary boy,” Disclaim’d the voice of sober reason.

V

And memory swell’d the alter’d lay With sounds of sweet, and transient gladness, They told of pleasure’s fairy sway, In hours that mock’d intrusive sadness.--

VI

And there was one, in hours gone past, Whose smile was like the smile of heaven, When beauty’s brightest hues are cast Along the dress of summer even.--

VII

It woke, within my youthful breast, Emotions dear, that never slumber, They come when all is sunk to rest, They breathe upon the sadden’d number.

VIII

The strain still lov’d to linger o’er The mem’ry of our happy meeting, In childhood’s wild, uncultured bower, When heart met heart, in tender greeting.

IX

Her form, her face, Ah what were they? Tho’ loveliest beauties there were dwelling; The ringlets unrestrain’d that stray’d; The ruby lip with nectar swelling?

X

Tho’ these were fair, her lovelier mind Each outward beauty far exceeded, By nature’s quick’ning power refined, Soft Pity’s gentle voice it heeded.

XI

And love, had been the tender name That swell’d our hearts in holiest union, But ah! too young to own the flame, We felt the bosom’s soft communion.

XII

Sudden, again--the tremb’ling lyre Its sound, to sorrow’s notes surrender’d; Lost was remember’d rapture’s fire, And woe seem’d in its strings engender’d.

XIII

Why changed the sound? ah why! no more Did rapture wake th’ inspiring measure? Why jar’d despair the accents o’er, Dark’ning each scene of vanish’d pleasure?

XIV

Wild shrieks the blast of heaven, round The grave, where all her beauties wither; The Yew-tree moans in solemn sound, When gently stirs the ambient æther.

XIV

The cold sod wraps her lovely form, That rapture to my soul imparted; She lived in beauty! but the storm In early morn, life’s current thwarted.

XVI

Where once the laughing, mirthful eye, With joy’s bright beam was wont to glisten; When time on pinions fleet went by, And we to hope’s fond tale would listen:

XVII

Or when the tear-drop started there,-- The sympathetic gem of feeling,-- And o’er that face so passing fair Soft pity’s sorrowing look was stealing.

XVIII

The icy worm his revel keeps, And there, his form is dully shining, Arround that lovely forehead creeps, Or o’er her faded cheek is twining.

XIX

The bosom, once that heav’d with mine, The throb of joy, or sigh of anguish, When fancied ill, or fond delight, Bade hope arise, or sudden languish.

XX

Sleeps silent, in the earthy grave. No woe her angel-dreams disturbing; Misfortune’s storm there cannot rave! No passion’s power the rest perturbing.--

XXI

O be thy spirit ever near! Attend my rude course to its closing; Melvina!--still thy name is dear, A thousand past delights disclosing.--

XXII

Thou wert to me, a kindred flower-- In nature’s garden, nurs’d together,-- We grew, till in a stormy hour Thy vernal charms were doom’d to wither.

XXIII

But gladness still, shall mark the strain, And hope shall point to brighter pleasure, When our torn hearts shall meet again, In hallow’d transport’s fullest measure.

_ERRATA._

It is with much regret, that the publisher (notwithstanding his endeavours to prevent it) has discovered a few instances of erroneous typography--those which would impair the sense are the following:--

“Hours of Childhood,” page 19th, section VII, line 2d, for _Scar’d_, read, _Sear’d_.

In “The Moon’s Pale Ray,” page 80th, 1st verse, 4th line, for _sea_, read, _sea’s_.